Little Recklessness
by RenaRoo
Summary: Batman and Robin's run-in with Mister Freeze almost ends poorly.


goodluckdetective prompted: Time to send in a prompt. Bruce visits Dick when his son is all laid up with a cold, and talks about how proud he is. In an emotionally stunted Bruce way, of course.

Batman and related properties © DC Comics  
story © RenaRoo

 **Little Recklessness**

Robin knew the moment he hit the freezing water and was utterly submerged on his one man mission to pull the woman out of the harbor that this decision would either end badly for one of them or both of them.

He had heard Batman yelling at him - _ordering_ him to wait - but sometimes Robin had to know when to fly, and Mr. Freeze's plan was to use the bystander as a means to slow Batman down. Too frequently everyone forgot Batman had a partner that could go for the people and leave Batman free to tangle with them and their schemes.

Grabbing the woman and directing her arms to wrap around his neck, Robin then began the frigid swim up to the surface, every movement beginning to sting.

Freeze's device was dropping the temperature of the Gotham Bay exponentially before Batman dismantled it. But it had not been quick enough to keep the already cold New England waters from dropping twenty degrees. Or thirty. Robin was beginning to believe it was thirty.

Despite the surface seeming so near, Robin felt the woman go limp, dragging him further down just as his own vision began to go spotted. _So close…_

Batman's hand grabbed him by the scruff of cape behind his head and Robin was hoisted out of the freezing waters gasping, still clinging to the bystander.

Immediately hitting the air and wind, Robin felt his body quaking, barely able to control his limbs enough to help Batman drag the woman (and Robin) to the asphalt near the warehouses. Robin could barely think about anything other than rubbing his arms, only objectively taking notice that Batman was wrapping the woman in his cape.

"To the car, Robin," Batman ordered as he offered a hand that the Boy Wonder immediately took. He pulled Robin to his feet. "I'll set it for autopilot to the cave and radio Alfred."

"Wh-wh-wh-why?" Robin demanded even as Batman grew impatient and half carried him to the waiting vehicle.

The scowl on Batman's face is set as he rummages through the supply kit and produces a thermal blanket. He wrapped Robin up and then practically poured him into the passenger seat. He wasn't looking directly at Robin and it was making the young partner nervous.

"Because I have to go after Freeze," Batman said before setting the coordinates for the cave and backing away from the car.

Robin felt too stunned to even speak, he merely looked at Batman who, in turn, seemed to want to say something as well, before he turned and grappled to the roof of the nearest warehouse.

As the Batmobile took off on its course, Robin curled, everything still so wet and _cold,_ and felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. _He messed up._

Alfred brought in a steaming tray with vegetable soup as Dick sneezed into his tissues. That one hit so hard that Dick felt his toes curl at the recoil.

"It seems as though we are fortunate today, Master Dick," Alfred said with a fond look on his usually stoic face. "I had resupplied our rations just yesterday before that business with Mr. Freeze. It appears that the unexpected _August_ snowfall has had every resident in Gotham lining the grocers."

Dick felt his stomach flop and slid lower into his sheets, snuffling. If they had caught Mr. Freeze sooner - if _Batman_ had caught Mr. Freeze sooner instead of saving Dick - there wouldn't be any August snow.

"Is there anything else you would like as a refreshment, young sir?" Alfred asked as he set up the tray across Dick's knees and aligned the silverware back to their proper positions.

 _"'Doww,"_ Dick replied hoarsely, raising enough in his bed to get a good angle at his soup. His eyes felt watery and engorged. He picked up the spoon and began to get a scoop when he noticed Alfred was turning to leave. "'Eyyy, Alf'ed," he said before sniffing as hard as he could. "You di'n't say 'blesh 'ou' when I snee'd."

Turning, Alfred raised his brows elegantly before his mustache twitched slightly. "I must disagree, sir. You did not _sneeze,_ you trumpeted like an elephant."

That made Dick laugh until (very quickly) his hoarse noises turned straight into a series of hacking coughs.

"I shall return shortly with your cough syrup," Alfred said, once the coughing settled to a normal octave.

The butler was already turned and out the door as Dick wheezed, "Awww, _'doooowwww."_

After a moment of waiting for Alfred to return or at least form the hallway _acknowledge_ Dick's protests, the young ward sighed and resigned himself to the soup. Soup he would never tell Alfred he could not taste with his cold.

He savored how the hot liquid felt going down his throat and warmed his bones and was _just_ resting his eyes between spoonfuls when he knew someone was at the door.

"'S goooood, Alf'ed," Dick said before opening his eyes and seeing, quite clearly, that it wasn't Alfred standing by the door frame.

Swallowing, dryly, Dick felt himself draw back a bit into the pillows behind him, feeling rather foolish and guilty all in one foul swoop.

Bruce came in, walking casually like when he took Dick with him to the WE offices, and then leaned over to look at the tray. "Alfred's cooking always tastes the best when you're sick," he says, almost reminiscent.

Dick nodded, only partially aware that he couldn't _actually_ verify that statement. He chose to study the way he could twiddle his thumbs in his lap instead, wondering if Bruce could see how _sorry_ he was for not listening last night. For letting Mr. Freeze get more damage done than he should have been able to.

If his throat didn't hurt so much from coughing that night and morning, Dick would _tell_ him in long, incomplete sentences.

The silence went on for a few long, agonizing moments before Dick managed to dare eye contact again and see for himself that Bruce was shifting a little… not _nervously._ That couldn't have been the right word. Dick might have only been twelve but he knew _Batman didn't get nervous._

"Are you…" Bruce paused before taking half a step toward there Dick's knees peeked in the sheets. "Am I interrupting you eating, Dick?"

Blinking, Dick wasn't sure what he was expecting but not that. He wasn't completely sure what _that_ was. His mind said _diversion,_ though. "'Doww."

"Ah, okay," Bruce said, clapping his hands together in a noise that was just a touch too loud, making them both twitch (not flinch. Batman and Robin don't flinch). "If you don't mind," Bruce continued, reaching over to guide Dick's knees to the side before stopping. "Would you mind if I sat here, Dick?"

In response, Dick shifted his knees as far as he could away from the edge without disturbing the tray Alfred set up.

Bruce sat on the edge of the bed, looking Dick over. The smile he had been forcing was dropping slightly when he reached over to the tissue box and pulled out two kleenexes. He handed them to Dick who nodded in understanding before blowing.

For some reason, Dick thought Bruce looked… _concerned._

"Did you need to get back to sleep, Dick?" Bruce asked, voice sounding so serious. "I can come back and… say this later if you're not up to it now."

That hit Dick like a ton of bricks. He felt, almost immediately, like he the end was upon him… that there was really only one thing Bruce could want to say to him when Robin _let Batman down._ When he _went against orders._

No amount of preparation in the world would get Dick prepared for what would surely come.

He felt sick. _Sicker._ But he shook his head anyway.

"Y-y-'ou ca'd say it," Dick responded, sniffing hard and cursing his clogged sinuses for making everything coming out of his mouth sound doughy and incomprehensible.

Taking a breath, Bruce leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands interlocked. "Last night, without any hesitation or warning, you dove into the water to save that woman," Bruce said, not looking at Dick just yet. He seemed to be looking off into space, resisting eye contact. It was never a good sign. "That water was freezing and she was too large for you to handle alone. You could have froze to death before either of you got to the surface. You could have _died."_

Sucking in a breath, Dick closed his eyes. He cursed how watery the general stuffiness of his head was making them, too.

"That didn't matter much to you at the moment, though, did it?" Bruce asked, and Dick looked to see that, indeed, his mentor was looking straight at him. "You were acting purely on instinct. Not thinking."

"Sorry," Dick whispered so low he barely heard it himself.

Bruce grimaced. "Sorry?"

"I di'n't listen," he sniffed.

Nodding, Bruce grew a tight frown. "No, you didn't, and we need to work on that."

"'N Free'd go'd away," Dick managed before coughing into his fist.

That got a confused look from Bruce and he tilted his head slightly. "I caught him an hour after I sent you home, Dick. He didn't get away. I told you and Alfred over the radio last night on my way back."

He told Alfred, but Dick had been shivering and listening in Bruce's chair. For a moment, in between drowning in nerves, Dick dared to wonder how Bruce _always_ knew Dick was listening in on the radio conversations.

"But… no'd fast 'nuff," Dick muttered.

At that instant, Bruce's eyebrows raised and he straightened up, looking as if understanding had just flooded him. He adjusted himself on the edge, angling himself to better face Dick. "Dick, you're not in trouble for last night. That's… Why did you think you were?"

"'Cuz-'cuz I di'n't _listen,"_ Dick responded, beginning to feel his own confusion quickly overtaking his guilt and anxiety.

"That's something for another time," Bruce said dismissively before reaching out with his large hand. It hovered for a moment over the sheets before Bruce seemed to finally settle and placed a firm hand on Dick's shoulder. "I was scared last night, you acted so fast - before even I knew what was the best course of action to take. You saw someone in danger and everything in you told you to help. And you did to the absolute _best_ of your abilities."

Dick felt something warm at his core. He ducked his head down. "You wou'd have, d'oo."

"But I didn't, not like you did," Bruce reminded him, squeezing his shoulder. "Not as fast or as fearless. And, after the fear was gone, and I knew you were both okay, I realized I'm… I'm _exceptionally_ proud of you."

Shocked, Dick blinked a few times, staring at the patterns of his blankets before he managed to look up and meet Bruce's face again. His mouth was agape but he couldn't manage to care.

"Y-you _are?"_

Nodding slowly, Bruce continued. "I always _am._ But, I was thinking about you and just… the fearlessness and control you had in what you did, and I realized that you're not just the good boy I've been proud of for so long now but… You're special, Dick. You have the heart of a hero, truly. And I've seen so many others _claim_ to have such, but not do so with a tenth of the conviction you do. And you're so young, too."

Not at all carrying anymore if he bumped the tray, Dick lunged over it with all the energy left in his sick body and wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck. He felt his heart pounding and the warm glow reach from head to toe. He barely even acknowledged that Bruce had gone slightly rigid at the action.

After a second, Bruce slowly brought up his hand and patted gently on Dick's back.

"Ya d'now what, B?" Dick asked as he maintained the embrace.

"What, Dick?"

"You're a li'l wrong," he explained. "I 'doww 'nother hero like 'dat. _You."_


End file.
